


In Which Steve Worries and Bucky Takes a Stroll

by TheRaven



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky has issues, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Protective Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaven/pseuds/TheRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky briefly goes missing. Steve worries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Steve Worries and Bucky Takes a Stroll

**Author's Note:**

> Not very happy with this one, but I wanted an excuse to write about Bucky with wet hair again. Hope y'all enjoy.
> 
> (also, for those concerned about my health, yes, i am sleeping regularly. i just have virtually nothing to do but sleep and write, and i write fast when i have inspiration. i really am posting all this stuff as i'm writing it, but i'm taking the time to get a good night's rest between marathon writing sessions. thank you for the concern, though. warms my cold, shriveled little heart.)

One gloomy day, Bucky disappears for three hours. It's the first time since they got him back that Steve doesn't know where he is, and worry turns him into a nervous wreck. He scours the Tower, asking everyone he sees if they've seen him. Most of the reactions range from annoyed to amused, with decidedly more of the latter. Steve tries to keep a lid on his panic and starts looking at security footage.

Finally, he finds him on camera. He's in the lobby, dressed in just a short sleeved shirt and jeans and his boots. Steve watches him on the footage as he passes several of Tony's employees without saying anything and leaves through the front door. That was three hours ago. Who knows where he could have gone, how far away he could be by now? Steve closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths. Bucky going out for awhile does not mean they'll find him on a pile of corpses somewhere.

Still, Steve puts on a jacket and heads to the lobby, ignoring the looks he gets. Bucky didn't get any when he left, but that's probably because Bucky is terrifying when he wants to be. It's raining, hard and cold as ice, and Steve kicks himself for not bringing an umbrella. But he doesn't want to go back upstairs now, so he looks down the street and tries to decide which way to go. Bucky had listed to the left when he approached the row of doors at the front of the lobby, but that doesn't mean he couldn't have changed his mind and gone the other way. Steve feels more than a little helpless, standing there in the rain.

And as if on cue, a familiar figure turns the corner a couple blocks ahead and ambles toward him. Steve watches him approach, apparently completely comfortable despite the rain soaking him through, and thinks about punching him in the face when he gets close enough. He doesn't, though, nor does he hug him or yell at him. He just smiles awkwardly and raises a hand in greeting.

“Sorry,” Bucky says, pushing his drenched hair out of his eyes. “I had to clear my head. Too many memories.”

Steve nods despite his worry, which has now morphed into annoyance. Bucky could have at least let him know he needed air instead of disappearing without warning. But he's back now, and that's what counts, he supposes. Steve smiles a little and pulls the hood of his jacket up a little more. Bucky smooths back his rain-slick hair and shrugs.

“Think we should go inside?” Bucky asks. “You're getting wet.”

“You're soaked,” Steve points out, and Bucky laughs, though the sound isn't entirely humorous.

“I had to feel something,” he says.

Steve knows what he means, but he ushers him inside just the same. This time, several employees look at Bucky, who isn't nearly as intimidating when he looks like a wet dog. Unless he's glaring daggers at people, which he's refraining from at present. Steve takes him up to their floor, because he's not going to let Tony have a crack at Bucky when he's already in a strange mood. The elevator announces the floor and lets them off, and Bucky stands in the living room like he's not sure what to do with himself.

“Aren't you cold?” Steve asks.

“I'm cold all the time,” Bucky replies. “But I guess I'm colder than usual.”

Steve shakes his head and gets some towels from the bathroom for them to dry off with. Bucky peels off his clothes, and when Steve hands him a pair of towels, he sees the goosebumps on his right arm and the beads of water slowly traveling down his left. He wonders what Bucky meant when he said he was always cold, if it was literal or metaphorical. Honestly, it could be either. Steve tries not to think about it too hard.

He clears his throat as he pulls off his jacket and shirt. His trousers are pretty much dry, as are his socks, so he doesn't bother to change those. Steve roots around in the closet for a replacement shirt and turns back to Bucky when he puts it on, ready to chastise him for standing out in the rain for hours at a time. But the sight of him clad in only a towel and with wet hair dripping down his chest makes desire roil in his gut, and suddenly, he wants to pin him to the bed.

Steve resists.

“You need help finding something to wear?” he asks instead.

Bucky shakes his head, scattering droplets of water, and goes into the walk-in closet to paw through his clothes. He returns a few minutes later in a pair of black jeans and a thin, black cotton t-shirt. Steve can't stop staring at his hair, stuck to the sides of his face until he moves his head and leaving little streaks of water down the back of his neck. How many times has he grabbed fistfuls of that hair, directing him or just holding him as close as possible?

He blinks the thoughts away. Later. Right now, he has to make sure Bucky is okay.

“Did you have a good walk?” he asks, feeling a little ridiculous.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, not quite looking at him. “Got to page through some things in my head.”

“Good,” Steve says. “I—were they anything I can help you with?”

Bucky gives him a look that's halfway between love and pity.

“I don't think so,” he says. “But I'm okay, don't worry.”

“You know I have to worry about you. It's part of my job now.”

Bucky scowls.

“You're keeping tabs on me. You're not my goddamn mother.”

“I know,” Steve says. “But next time, just tell somebody you're going out for a walk, okay? It was...scary, not knowing where you were.”

“I will,” Bucky promises. “But if I find out Stark put a tracker in my arm next time he gives it a tune-up, I'm gonna kill somebody. Probably Stark.”

“Nobody's gonna put a tracker in you, Buck,” Steve sighs. Bucky's new-found paranoia was exasperating sometimes. “I promise.”

He can't promise, of course. S.H.I.E.L.D. has done some sneaky shit in the past, after all, and ordering Tony to put a tracker in Bucky's arm would really be par for the course. He tries not to think about it.

“So why were you really out there?” Steve asks to keep the thoughts at bay.

“I told you,” Bucky says. “I wanted to feel something.”

Steve doesn't understand, but it's probably just as well. He'd be very upset if he knew what Bucky meant. Instead, Steve just nudges Bucky back toward the elevator so they can meet up with the rest of the team.


End file.
